


Selling Slime Excrement is Vaguely Profitable

by Stabbsworth



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game), Slime Rancher (Video Game)
Genre: Maybe - Freeform, Ogden Ortiz is mentioned, Other, Pyromania, willowson will be there eventually.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 06:04:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18114797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stabbsworth/pseuds/Stabbsworth
Summary: Wilson got knocked out, woke up in a bed that wasn't his own, then got roped into doing some work for someone as a thanks for saving him.





	Selling Slime Excrement is Vaguely Profitable

**Author's Note:**

> This crossover works surprisingly well!

There was a slight groan as he awoke to sunlight on his eyelids, and he opened his eyes, squinting at the light.

Truly, he was a little miffed at being woken up so early by sunlight, and he was more than a little bit tempted to roll over, but a sharp spike of pain earned a slightly shocked look and a hiss as he brought the offending limb out to look it over. It was his arm that was giving him pain signals, what on Earth was he doing last night?--

An expression of alarm crossed his face when he found bandages.

With his good arm, he pushed himself to sit up, leaning against the pillow behind him. One of his arms was bandaged, somehow, and he didn’t remember doing this.

What the hell was he doing last night?

If he was knocked out, 7Zee’s retrieval drones would come to wherever he was, pick him up and deposit him on his bed with no injuries whatsoever, and he’d be out for the count for about… twelve hours, give or take. 

(It was something about the drones’ healing process being a bit faulty, but that was from a conspiracy theory nutjob on some galactic internet forum. He wasn’t sure why he was browsing that part of the internet, it was something he’d wandered into by accident while trying to wake up with some coffee.)

Somewhere, a door opened, and he perked up, listening for any more noises, then looked towards the slime plushie that was situated at the end of the bed.

He didn’t remember purchasing a slime plushie. Hell, he remembered selling one at some point to help pay for materials for the laboratory.

Wilson looked back down at the covers, appreciating their warmth, before realizing they had a very different pattern to the ones back at home. His eyes widened in muted horror, this definitely wasn’t his bed. Hell, waking up to a brightly lit room should have tipped him off, he had curtains set up back at his house.

Oh god this was becoming very uncomfortable. Had he been kidnapped?

The sound of footsteps was becoming louder, closer, until a woman entered the room. She wore a sweater with a white collar that resembled one that could be found on a common shirt, and her skin was pale, but not ashen.

Amber eyes met with his hazel, and he quickly turned his gaze to his hands, almost in embarrassment.

“Oh, finally, you’re up.” She crossed her arms, leaning on the wall with a mirthful smile on her face. “Took your sweet time. You got knocked out, I figured it’d be easier to drag your ass back to mine instead of buggering about with teleporters.”

Such crass language, he thought, brows furrowing slightly.

It took him a moment to find his voice, but the confusion at the short explanation of why he was here was evident “I-- I haven’t seen you before, ma’am.”

“Well, duh, that’s because we’re on different parts of the Range!”

“...I figured.”

“Anyways, there were a bunch of Tarr,” She makes a disgusted face at the name, sticking her tongue out for a moment. “And you were about to become their snack. I’m surprised I had to get you here, dunno if that company’s retrieval drones were down for maintenance or what.”

He shifted a little. How embarrassing, having to be saved by someone. It’s even more embarrassing that he hasn’t thanked her yet. Or introduced himself. What was he doing, sleeping in her bed without her even knowing his name?

“Thank you… what’s your name?”

“Willow. And don’t you wear it out!” There’s a hearty laugh. (It’s a nice laugh.)

“I’m Wilson. Wilson P. Higgsbury, at your service. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

An awkward smile is exchanged with her.

“At my service, huh?”

“...I thought you’d want repayment for… um… well, saving me, really.” A hand goes to rub at the back of his neck, a gesture he’s become far too familiar with since he’s started socializing with people on the Range Exchange.

“Well, if you want to repay me, you could take the plorts out and sell them.”

Wilson shifted to get out of the bed, only to be stopped by her hand resting on his shoulder, making him jolt, briefly.

(He never did like being touched on the shoulders.)

“Hey, be careful with that arm, dude, you got real roughed up back there.”

“...Noted. My apologies about that mess--” He tried to keep a friendlier grin on his face.

“Happens to the best of us. That includes me. C’mon, let’s get going.”

He took a moment to get his shoes on, boots that were pretty good for scaling rough terrain. Practically a lifesaver if you needed to get on top of a pillar or something to get a better look at the area.

He also took another moment to make the bed while Willow left the house, then quickly followed after her.

What greeted him would be classed as a pyromaniac’s wet dream.

Two incinerators, two corrals for the crackling, explode-y kind of slime, and two chicken pens.

The incinerators had a few fire slimes in them, and the chicken pens had more than a few briar chickens in there, assumedly for the Boom slimes. (There were roostros, but less. Given that they were a tad rarer than the normal hens, that was to be expected.)

He’d found out that was their favourite food when they produced double the normal amount of excrement.

(There was also no way he was going to call them plorts. That name sounded incredibly stupid, if you asked him.)

Wilson shifted his weight, while Willow grinned. “It’s awesome, ain’t it?”

“Er, yes. Yes it is. I’m wondering where you got those fire slimes from, they’re fairly hard to get--”

“A friend hooked me up with a teleporter to the Glass Desert. They’re pretty good at the engineering stuff.”

“Oh… what is the Glass Desert?”

A mildly shocked look crossed her face for a moment. “Like, dude, it’s another dimension. Or world. The Slime Sea is replaced by sands. Seriously, have you never heard of the place before?”

“There wasn’t anything about it in the welcome notice…”

“I can take you there after we sell the plorts!” A grin crossed the lady’s face, her eyes practically sparkling with inner warmth.

Her enthusiasm was contagious.

“That sounds good.” He felt the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile.

His mind brimmed with possibilities. What science was there to be found in that desert? Bits and pieces of history were scattered far and wide, most notably the Ancient Ruins having held civilization, what with the statues dedicated to slimes and all.

There was also Ogden’s retreat, the wild areas surrounding it being home to ridiculous amounts of feral saber slimes aching for food. Not one scientist had managed to synthesize a true saber slime. He was aiming for it, but the priority had shifted.

There was a fair amount of improvement to the ranch to be made before he could house any crossbreed of saber slime. That being at least one more chicken coop and splitting the Briar Hens into that coop.

A pit of anxiety rested in his stomach at the thought of his own ranch. He’d been out for the count for twelve hours, hadn’t he?

His own slimes would be fine, he’s certain that he’s restocked the auto-feeders with fresh food and taken out the slime excrement recently, probably either stored at the lab’s refinery for future endeavours in science or sold on the market for a quick Newbuck.

“We’d better get cracking.”

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I'm a sucker for Slime Rancher, and I like Don't Starve, so I had the thought of combining them.
> 
> Wilson is an awkward person in this.


End file.
